


What's So Good About Picking Up the Pieces?

by leenaelizabeth



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Fairies, I don't know what I'm doing, M/M, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 00:10:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4283250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leenaelizabeth/pseuds/leenaelizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are fairies in Beacon Hills, because that is Stiles' life now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's So Good About Picking Up the Pieces?

**Author's Note:**

> So... This happened  
> I'm procrastinating doing homework, so I decided to write this.  
> Enjoy?  
> -Lena

Fairies, this was actually Stiles' life now. 

The Hale house was full of life, the pack and their partners grouping in the lounge to hear about this new threat to their lives. Which was apparently fairies. Evil fairies that drank blood and ate children and had claws that were almost the size of Stiles' forearm. 

Which was terrifying to say the least, which was why Stiles was more than shocked when no one seemed as freaked out as he was. Because hello, evil fairies that ate children.

Derek was casually making battle plans, without even making sure everyone had grasped what was actually happening. He should be more considerate, because even though Stiles had basically grown up with this werewolf crap, the fact that more and more supernatural creatures kept popping up all over the place was a massive concern. 

“Humans are to stay away from the battle.” Derek said, looking pointedly at Stiles. “These things have magic which is more easily used against humans, and we can't have a possessed human holding us back.”

Stiles just stared at him, because fuck Derek. Stiles had fought every single battle this stupid pack came across, and he was not going to stop now. He glared angrily at Derek, making plans to yell at him when this meeting was over and all the betas had gone back to their respective houses. He knew he would just embarrass himself, and would rather do that without an audience, thank you very much.

Finally, finally, the pack leaves and Stiles lets his anger boil inside him for a moment while Derek was outside being friendly (which he argued about a lot, because he was their alpha and apparently alphas were meant to be assholes or something). Derek looked slightly surprised that Stiles was still sitting on his couch when he came back inside, but that look quickly went back to the emotionless mask that was Derek Hale.

“Firstly, what the fuck.” Was what Stiles decided to start off with, which yeah, wasn't really great. Derek just glared at him, moving to sit down on the couch opposite of Stiles. “I mean, I am not some defenseless human, I have fought every god-damn battle with this pack and if you think I'm-”

“You're going to go home and do whatever the hell you usually do as we fight these stupid fairies. Stiles these guys have magic, and they can make you do what you don't want to do. You will end up turning on us, and I know you will hate yourself for it afterwards.” Derek interrupted him. His argument made sense, but Stiles was too stubborn to accept defeat.

“You saying I'm weak?” Was all he said, crossing his arms like a child.

Derek sighed, rubbing his fingers across the bride of his nose like Stiles gave him a headache. “You know that's not what I'm saying, Stiles.” He sounded defeated. “Can you just trust me this once when I tell you to stay home?”

Stiles didn't know if he trusted Derek, and he knew Derek didn't trust him. The alpha didn't trust anyone, which was annoying to say the least. Stiles knew himself, knew he couldn't stay away from the fight for very long, but he heard himself grudgingly agree. 

Both Stiles and Derek knew that it was probably a lie. Derek seemed pissed off by that, but then again, when did Derek not look pissed off? 

“I'm going to go now.” Stiles said for no reason. Derek acknowledged him with a simple grunt, and Stiles took his leave. He got into his Jeep, his thoughts confused and jumbled up. He knew what he was going to do, that was obvious to everyone. But how to do it was the real issue here.

\- - - 

Stiles had turned on the tracking device on Scott's phone. 

It was a long shot, but he decided it was better than nothing. He knew Scott was probably not going to forget his phone, and therefore would lead Stiles straight to the fight. Technology wasn't always reliable, but Stiles was really counting on this. Plus, Scott had absolutely no idea, which was kind of adorable, considering Stiles literally told him what he was doing.

“Why do I need a tracking device?” Scott asked. He sounded confused, his head tilted to the side like a lost puppy. Stiles didn't even need to look at him to know that he was doing The Eyes (they deserved capitals. They were evil, and made Stiles do whatever Scott wanted. They were his only weakness). 

“Because, Scott, you are not the brightest bulb in the box. I need to see where you are in case Allison gets worried.” With the mention of Allison, Scott got a dazed look in his eyes and sighed slightly. Stiles rolled his eyes, “Look, dude, just trust me on this one.”

“Sure thing.” Was all Scott said, a goofy grin appearing on his face. Stiles left him to his daydream and finished with Scott's phone, handing it back to him with a reminder to take it with him at all times. He wasn't sure Scott even heard him.

Stiles left the McCall residence and made it into his Jeep before feeling the slightest bit of guilt. He knew Scott would get into deep shit with Derek for this, but Stiles had to help in this battle. He needed it. His life had always felt so pointless, and he felt like he was saving humanity when participated in killing whatever freaky beast the world would throw at him next. 

The world was a bitch, but Stiles kind of liked it that way. Because what fun would it be if there was nothing dangerous coming after him almost every day? The answer to that was less fun, but probably a lot more alive.

\- - -

The fairies came four days after the meeting. Stiles had been tracking Scott's every move, and so far the tracking device seemed accurate and reliable. Which was a good sign.

Stiles tried to feign innocence when Derek told them all that the fight was to happen that night, pretending he was going home and calling it a night and would see them all in the morning when those pesky fairies were taken care of. He was pretty sure no one believed him.

Derek pulled Stiles away from the group as they made their way back to their cars after the meeting was done. Stiles tried to look confused and pissed, like he was going to miss out on some valuable study time. Which, obviously, he wasn't.

“I mean it, Stiles. Do not follow us tonight.” Derek's voice was low and fast, urgent.

Stiles rolled his eyes and shrugged out of Derek's grip, ignoring how he felt the touch even after Derek's hand was gone. “Dude, stop. Trust me, I do not wish to be risking my life tonight. I have a chemistry test next week and I can't miss it.” This was a lie. He didn't even have school next week. Derek knew this and raised his eyebrow, “A catch up test. Going into school during the holidays to you know... do the test.” It was lame. The lamest lie that Stiles had ever told, but Derek nodded and then turned back towards his house. Stiles stood there for a moment, before climbing into his Jeep and heading home to get ready.

\- - -

The pack was to assemble in some alley way at 10pm. Which was weird, because apparently the fairies had requested an exact time and spot for the fight. Stiles found that suspicious, but apparently no one else did as Derek had accepted the offer without a second thought.

Stiles was ten minutes late, and even then the fight was well underway.

The fairies weren't what was told to him in the fairy tales. They weren't tiny little ladies with wings that glowed and wore dresses and did general good in the world. Oh no. Nope. 

They were the things from nightmares. Six feet tall with bare feet with nails that were curved into claws. They wore dresses that were torn and dirty, and their hair was a clump on the top of their heads. Their skin was pale and thin, their veins clearly visible through it. Their eyes were bright red, their pupils dilated. Their tongue was split down the middle. It was horrific and Stiles let out an involuntary squeak.

The pack was fighting, and winning it seemed like. The fairies were tiring, bleeding from the many wounds that the wolves had inflicted. The wolves had obtained injuries also, but their healing made it easier for them to continue the fight. 

Stiles grabbed the bat he had hidden in his car, along with the gun he had stolen from his dad. He was planning to return it in the morning, and as he was away for some police conference in New York, he would never know. Which was good, but also made Stiles feel extremely guilty. 

He began to make his way to the fight, trying to keep his breathing and heartbeat under control. Which was easier said then done. He had just managed to calm down enough to load his gun when he was wiped off his feet and thrown four feet. He hit a wall, hard, his gun and bat flying away from his hands. Well, fuck.

The fairy was looking at him hungrily, and Stiles tried to get up, clutching at his ribs. It hurt to move, and he assumed he had broken something. Five seconds in and he was already injured, maybe Derek was right to tell him to stay home. The fairy advanced on him, her claws scratching lightly at her sides. She had a psychopathic smile on her face, making Stiles' skin crawl.

Stiles had no where to go. He glanced around him wildly, hoping to see someone that could help him. There was no one, everyone else busy trying not to die themselves. They had no idea that Stiles was even here, so Stiles kind of screwed himself over.

“Hello human.” The fairy drawled, her speech was altered, hard to understand. Stiles assumed it was due to her tongue, which was constantly darting out her mouth like a snake. “All by your lonesome, I see?” 

Her speech kind of made Stiles was to kill himself, because why did villains always have to make a speech? He didn't understand it, and he thought maybe it was because she wanted to be taken seriously? The thought about misunderstood fairies made Stiles laugh, which was possibly the worst decision he could have made in that situation. 

The fairy stopped, and stared at him. She cocked her head, studying him like he was a piece of meat she had never seen before. “Something funny little human?” Stiles shook his head and the fairy laughed, “The only thing funny here is your death.”

The joke wasn't even funny, and Stiles would have called her out on it if he wasn't currently trying not to shit his pants. Which, once again, was easier said than done. Because Stiles was on the verge of a panic attack, and the fairy was advancing closer to him, blocking off his escape one step at a time. He could no longer see the fight, only the fairy.

She swiped at him, and Stiles jerked back. He hit his head on the wall, which hurt, but not as much as the slash on his face. Blood dripped down his cheek, and pooled on his collar bone. The fairy laughed once again, and Stiles regretted all of his life choices at that one point in time. She pushed him against the wall, her claw slicing through Stiles' shoulder easily. Stiles would have screamed if the fairy hadn't covered his mouth with her -now bloody- hand, “No no, little one. Don't ruin all the fun.” Stiles hated himself. 

The witch grabbed Stiles by his injured shoulder and spun around, sending him flying into a dumpster on the other side of the alley. He hit it was a thump, and slumped down it, leaving a blood trail behind him. The fairy was advancing on him again, and Stiles' vision was beginning to blur, making it seem like there was two fairies instead of just the one, grinning wildly. 

Stiles whimpered as the fairy grabbed him again, her claw slicing through his gut. His vision was mostly black now, and Stiles could barely feel the pain anymore. He didn't know if that was a blessing or not. He wondered how he would get the gun back to his dad before he noticed. He would be in so much trouble when he got home.

There was a roar, one that vibrated through Stiles' body. Stiles felt something wet splatter across his face, and someone picking him up, whispering urgently before everything went black.

\- - - 

Stiles woke up in a room that was so white it hurt his eyes. 

He groaned and tried to move, his body was sore and groggy, uncooperative. He was alone, he knew that, and it kind of scared him. Where was he? What had happened?

“Stiles.” Stiles' head rolled to the side as he saw Alan Deaton stroll into the room, a clipboard in his hand. “I'm glad you're awake. We were scared that you would not come back to us.” Stiles had no idea what he was talking about, his confusion must have been obvious on his face because Deaton chuckled, “Derek brought you here after your... run in with the fairies.”

Stiles felt like an idiot. Derek must hate him. He had gone against what he had said, and got hurt. God, he was dumb. Stiles closed his eyes, trying to block out the thousands of thoughts swirling through his head. The door opened once again and Stiles knew who it was before he even turned his head. He heard soft words exchanged between the two before Deaton left.

Derek sighed and sat beside him, “God Stiles, what were you thinking?” He sounded tired, defeated. 

“I wanted to help.” Stiles' voice was raw, and it hurt to talk. He turned to face Derek. The wolf had dark circles under his eyes, his hands shaking slightly. “You okay?”

Derek didn't answer for a while, “I thought you were going to die.” He said softly, not looking at him, “I thought I had lost you.”

Stiles wasn't sure what to feel. He was confused, he didn't know what Derek was trying to say or what Stiles could say back. God, he had woken up five seconds ago and was so high on drugs he could barely see straight. Derek could not expect an answer from him that makes sense. “I...” 

Derek shook his head, putting it in his hands, “You can't do that again, okay? Never. I can't lose you like I lost-” He broke off, his voice shaking. “Stiles, promise me.”

“I don't understand.” Stiles whispered, Derek reached out and grabbed his hand, rubbing circles int it. “Derek?”

Derek stood up abruptly, “Forget it.”

“What? No, Derek-” But Derek was already gone, the doors slamming behind him. The sound of the doors vibrated through Stiles' head, giving him a headache. He had absolutely no idea what had just happened.

\- - - 

He had been asleep for five days and had to have a blood transfusion twice. He had broken ribs, a collapsed lung, a concussion and some really severe wounds in his shoulder and belly. He should be dead, that's what Deaton said. It's amazing he was alive and not brain dead. Stiles had no idea how to feel about that. He should be dead.

Scott had come to see him the day he woke up, after Derek had left. He seemed sad, tired. He told him that they won, no one got seriously injured apart from Stiles. None of the other humans had showed up. That made Stiles feel worse, even though Scott assured him that he was brave and that none of the others would have been brave enough to do what he did. Stiles just thought he was stupid, stupid and an attention whore. 

He feel asleep again when Scott was there, and woke up to a dark room, alone. He was scared, and not just because he was alone in an unfamiliar place. He was scared because he knew Derek was angry, and Derek could kick him out of the pack if he wanted to. Derek was weird and strangely affectionate at times, but he was the alpha and knew when someone wasn't good for the pack. And that person was Stiles.

Stiles hurt too much to cry, but that didn't stop him from freaking out inside his own head. He was halfway through a full-blown silent panic attack when someone touched his hand. He was sure he would have jumped if he wasn't connected to a jumble of wires and tubes. He glanced over to see Derek sitting next to him. When did he even come into the room?

He was windswept and tired and he looked like the walking dead. He looked like shit, to put it bluntly. “Derek?” Stiles whispered, his voice was broken and raw. 

“Look, Stiles, I just need to tell you something and if you don't feel the same, fine, we can forget it happened. But I love you, okay? I love you so much it hurts me, and I thought you were going to die. I thought- Listen, you can't do that again. Not to me, not to Scott, not to your dad. I don't know how to say this enough, but I can't lose you. No one can lose you, you're too... you're too important. To me, to all of us.” Derek was breathing heavily, speaking really quickly. He looked like he was ready to run if need be. 

Stiles was quiet processing what Derek had said. Stiles had been interested in the man since the time in the woods, when they first officially met. The guy was rude and dark and almost illiterate most of the time, but there was something that intrigued Stiles, made him want to know more about the dark man that inserted himself into their lives. He was hot, sure, but there was something that Stiles couldn't put a finger to, something that made Stiles' stomach flip whenever Derek touched him or looked at him without a glare. He wanted to know everything about Derek, wanted to be accepted by him, wanted to be in his life. And that was the first time that Stiles let himself admit that he was in love with Derek Hale.

“I thought you were going to kick me out of the pack.” Stiles said quietly, watching how Derek's face scrunched up in confusion, “I thought you hated me, I thought I was the bane of your existence.”

“No, no you're anything but.” Derek was refusing to look at him, staring at the cords going into Stiles' hands. 

“Look at me.” Stiles said, Derek jerked his head up, his eyes vulnerable and young. “Lay with me.” 

Derek managed to slip in beside Stiles, trying not to move him too much. Stiles shut his eyes tightly, trying not to let his whimper escape his lips. “I'm sorry.” Derek whispered, he moved Stiles so his head was laying on Derek's chest. 

“It's okay.” Stiles said quietly, listening to Derek's heartbeat. It was one of the most smoothing things that Stiles had ever heard. “Derek?”

“Yeah?” Derek sounded tired, almost asleep.

“I love you too.”


End file.
